


Stop Draggin' My Heart Around

by dovingbird



Series: One Simple Change [3]
Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Angst, F/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-25
Updated: 2014-01-25
Packaged: 2018-01-09 22:17:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1151445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dovingbird/pseuds/dovingbird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the curtains drawn and the light low, he could almost pretend they were alone. He could pretend this was okay, that this was normal. Part of my "One Simple Change" series, where each story was written week-to-week as the S11 episodes premiered. AU in that Hannah and Phil broke up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stop Draggin' My Heart Around

With the curtains drawn and the light low, he could almost pretend they were alone. He could pretend this was okay, that this was normal.  
  
They lay side-by-side, the sweat cooling on their skin and breathing in each other's musk. The sheet had been abandoned. The comforter was on the floor. None of it mattered. All that mattered was each other.  
  
"Didn't know what you were getting into, huh?" Elise asked softly, her lips curving into a playful grin.  
  
"Shoot." He closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the mattress. "Thought I was prepared for everything, but damn."  
  
She laughed. There was still an hour to go before anyone would be stirring. They had some time to come down from the crest, to bask in the endorphins that hid the soreness of their muscles. He was oddly grateful for it. This was Eden. He didn't want to leave it just yet.  
  
"I still can't believe you."  
  
"What?" she asked, the grin twisting into a smirk.  
  
"You were planning that from the beginning, weren't you?"  
  
Her eyes became huge and her lips parted. "Wh-!" She laughed again, but this one was colored with shock. "Are you serious?"  
  
"Yeah!"  
  
"Phil!"  
  
"Just waitin' on an opportunity for me to need you."  
  
She shook her head with a smile. "Well, look who thinks highly of himself."  
  
"'Cuz it's true, y'know." His tone grew soft and warm.  
  
"What is?"  
  
"I did need you."  
  
Her gaze softened. "How does it go?" she murmured, brushing her fingers through his hair. "There's people runnin' 'round loose in the world. They ain't got nothin' better to do."  
  
"Hmm." He leaned into her touch.  
  
"They'll make a meal of some bright-eyed kid."  
  
"Now, just hold on-"  
  
She touched her finger to his lips, smiling softly. "You need someone looking after you."  
  
They were quiet for a long moment, her gently flicking his bottom lip and him glancing up at her. When she pulled her finger back he moistened his lips with a quick dash of his tongue and watched the way her pupils dilated. "You think I'm that weak?"  
  
She laughed softly. "The day I think you're weak," she whispered, tilting her head to the side, "is the day pigs fly."  
  
"That don't take much." He reached out and touched her hip, taking in the smoothness beneath his guitar-calloused fingertips. "Just a little catapult in the Summer."  
  
"You're crazy."  
  
His gaze flicked over her curves, committing each mountain and each valley to memory. He was a surveyer, looking for something to buy and make his own. He was a farmer, looking for land to cultivate.  
  
This girl made him feel like he was home. And that in and of itself was dangerous right now.  
  
"It's a rough world out there," she said, the growl in her voice more and more apparent the louder she got. "I just don't know if you're ready for it."  
  
"I don't gotta be ready for it. I'll figure it out."  
  
"No, Phil, no." He saw the first signs of exasperation in the way her forehead wrinkled. "That's not what I mean."  
  
"I'm not stupid."  
  
"I know you're not, but-"  
  
"Just 'cuz I'm from a little town in Georgia-"  
  
"Will you just shut up," she whispered, reaching out to cup his cheek, "and listen?"  
  
He snapped his mouth shut and eased himself up onto his elbows.  
  
She closed her eyes, breathed out a calming sigh, and bit her lip. "...I don't wanna see them corrupt you."  
  
He opened his mouth, but her thumb touched his bottom lip again and reminded him to be quiet.  
  
"You've got a good heart. You're still innocent. Hell, you're more innocent than anyone in this whole damn competition."  
  
"...even Hollie?"  
  
She paused. She considered. "Hollie's...innocent because she chooses to be." She tilted her head to the side, her hair spilling over her bare shoulder, and he watched it fall. "She could get into that world all she wants. She just doesn't want to. But you? Sweetheart, you've never had a chance."  
  
He jerked his eyes up.  
  
"You're a slice of humble pie because that's how you were raised. You've got all that good Southern respect and manners because that's how you were raised. You haven't been out there. You haven't seen what I've seen."  
  
He felt his jaw tensing and tightening. The hand splayed across her hip curled inward until it was a fist.  
  
"I don't know if I want you to see it."  
  
"Damn."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Out of all the people here, I never thought you'd be pulling this shit."  
  
"What?!"  
  
"I thought it'd be Jessica or something, tryin'a manipulate me."  
  
She flinched, eyebrows furrowing. Her eyes lost their sparkle in a second.  
  
"You're just tryin'a get me to give up."  
  
"No."  
  
"You want me to think I can't do it."  
  
"Jesus, will you listen to yourself?!"  
  
"And I'm sick of it!"  
  
She jolted away from him, but this time she grabbed the sheet. She covered herself, neck to ankle, before she reached toward him. He flinched away. "That's not what I meant."  
  
"You know what?" he hissed. "This doesn't have to be anything at all."  
  
"But-"  
  
"This thing between us. This doesn't have to be anything. This was just-"  
  
"Phil-"  
  
"-a distraction."  
  
"Stop it!"  
  
He was silent as he came to his feet and grabbed his boxers. As he pulled them on, he heard her sniffle. But when he looked over his shoulder to see her pain, all he saw was her anger.  
  
"I want to help you!"  
  
"Maybe I don't want it."  
  
"You don't mean that."  
  
"Don't you dare," he snarled, pointing straight at her, "tell me what I do and don't mean. I know what I mean. I know it. It's in my damn head."  
  
"Don't walk away from me," she murmured. She came to her knees and looked him right in the eye. "Don't run from this. Not after tonight."  
  
He was drunk on his anger. He was drunk. He leaned in, nose-to-nose with her, and narrowed his eyes. "I'll see you on the stage."  
  
He left. She wasn't going to control him. She wasn't going to manipulate him. She was going to leave him be. Whether she liked it or not. _  
_


End file.
